


Laced Drink

by MCUsic_to_my_ears



Series: Whumptober 2019 [10]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Awesome James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Harley Keener is a Good Bro, Hurt Peter Parker, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 16:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21200801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCUsic_to_my_ears/pseuds/MCUsic_to_my_ears
Summary: Harley finds Peter at a party and takes him home.***Whumptober 2019 Day 21: Laced Drink





	Laced Drink

Harley was pissed. First, Lila had dragged him to a party he hadn’t wanted to go to in the first place, and then immediately had ditched him to go ogle over Cassie attempting a kegger. Not that he had anything against Cassie. She was probably the only person in his oChem lecture that he could tolerate. But at a certain point, he really didn’t need anymore people stealing his friends. He was down to Lila, her brother Cooper, and an international student named Shuri who half the time wouldn’t even give him the time of day. 

He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. He needed to join a club or something. Meeting people in the dorms was not going well for his freshman year. Lila had it right. Rush the week before and have fifty people be required to be your friends. Which was why he was at this god awful frat party in the first place. Because otherwise she would have had to meet some new guy, who didn’t know she was gay. Lila would just claim to date Harley for the next four years and sneak into the LGBT resource center from the back. Of course, Harley wasn’t much better. 

He wandered upstairs instead, fiddling with his hoodie strings. No reason to wait around in the thumping music. Lila knew to text him when she wanted to leave. For now, he would try to find a bathroom to hide in or something. 

He pushed the first door he came across open, but the door swung back closed before it had opened half way. 

There was a thud and a girl inside exclaimed, "What the hell?" 

"Sorry," he muttered, walking away. One room down, ten to go. He heard a scramble from inside the bathroom, someone falling to the ground and taking a shit ton of personal hygiene products with them. He frowned, running his tongue over his teeth anxiously. Something wasn't sitting right with him. He knocked on the door. "Everything alright in there?" he asked. There was no answer. He pushed the door in, flipping on the lights. 

A scrawny boy, looking about Harley's age, with blown pupils stared up from the floor. His shirt was off and pants unbuttoned. The girl standing above him was down to just an unlatched bra. Harley averted his eyes, looking down at the red head. "You okay?" Harley asked. 

Slowly, the boy shook his head. 

"We were in the middle of something," the girl remarked, positioning herself between the two men. 

"Yeah, not anymore." Harley reached past her and hoisted the boy up to his feet. The senior shouted expletives at them as Harley tugged the boy towards the stairs. 

"Hey, you okay?" He paused a moment to look him over. "What's your name?"

"Peter." 

Peter looked dazed as he buttoned his pants with trembling fingers. There were hickeys littered over his neck and chest. Speaking of which… Harley shucked off his hoodie and handed it to Peter, who quickly pulled it over himself, blinking owlishly when his head popped back out. “Thanks,” he mumbled, fidgeting. 

“Yeah, no problem. Um,” Harley rubbed his neck. “Do you want me to walk you home? I, um, feel weird about just letting you leave by yourself. I mean, if you are leaving. Obviously, you don’t have to-”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded, not looking at Harley. He swayed on his feet. “Yeah, um, home. I don’t- um. How did I-?” He listed forward and Harley raced to catch him before he fell. 

“Jesus, man. What did you take?” Peter looked a little green around the gills when Harley glanced him over. He settled the other boy onto the ground. “Are you gonna puke?” 

“Um.” Peter press the backs of his fingers against his cheeks. “I think Sprite.”

“What?” 

“Not gonna puke, promise. Um. Think something in…” He blinked lazily for a moment. “Don’ think Sprite was good.”

“She drugged you?”

Peter shrugged. 

“Yeah, we’re getting you home.” Harley pulled out his phone and shot a quick text to Lila, apologizing about the emergency. “Where do you live?” 

“96th and Columbus.”

Harley searched his memory of the city and was fairly certain he could get them there without too much trouble. Although it was a little bit further from Columbia’s campus than Harley had been expecting. Peter must have been a New York native to live off campus, unlike Harley who was an eleven hour drive from his home back in Tennessee. 

“Alright.” He helped pull Peter up to his feet. “Off we go.”

It was difficult to slip out of the party, with all the warm bodies crowding every room, but eventually Harley steered the pair onto the sidewalk, which was slightly less filled with drunk college kids. 

Peter didn’t say much on the way home, just leaned heavily on Harley and offered directions whenever Harley paused at an intersection unsurely. Definitely a New Yorker. Even drugged, he still knew his city. About a half hour later, Peter shifted his weight so that he was standing mostly on his own and pointed at the building they were stopped in front of.

“Home,” he mumbled.

“You’re sure this is your place?” Harley eyed the building warily. It didn’t look like there were any apartments inside. Just rows and rows of cubicles, if he had to guess. 

“Dad’s inside,” Peter slurred, stumbling forward to paw at the locked door. Inside, it was dark. “Fri- Friday,” he hiccuped. 

“Yeah, man, I get it. It’s Friday. Got a whole weekend of vomiting ahead of you.” He slipped Peter’s arm back over his shoulder to keep the teen from falling over. 

Peter shook his head. “No,” he frowned, then cleared his throat. “Friday,” he called out, louder this time. Harley glanced around to see if anyone was noticing them, but apparently they just looked like average drunk idiots. “Friday, override code ‘Good Samaritan’.”

Suddenly, a blue square on the door. Peter slapped his hand against it after a couple tries, leaning his head against the cool glass. 

“Welcome, Peter,” an electronic voice greeted. Harley whipped back. It was too late for sci-fi shit. 

“Tell Dad s’not m’ fault,” Peter requested, jerking the, now unlocked, door open. He tugged Harley in behind him. The door clicked shut, and in the dim light, Harley could see a reception area and a waiting room. Peter collapsed onto one of the chairs, hiding his head in his arms. Harley stood beside him awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. Peter clearly knew was happening. Harley just had to wait it out, although not for long because within the minute, an elevator off to the side slide open and out walked two men. 

The first, a shorter white man with disheveled hair and a stained MIT shirt, rushed forward and knelt beside Peter, smoothing the boy’s hair. 

“Hey, hey, you alright bud? What happened?”

Peter wrapped his arms around the older man while the other adult looked Harley over. The second man, a muscular black man with his arms crossed over a plain black sleep shirt. Harley backed away from Peter under the older man’s gaze. 

“Come on, Pete,” the shorter man whispered. 

“Um. Sick.” Peter pulled away from him. “Someone... “ Peter flushed, but tucked his thumb into his palm of his left hand and then poked his right index finger inside once. 

The kneeling man wrapped his arms back around Peter in shock. 

“Who did that Peter?” The taller man stared Harley down, frown deepening. 

“I- I didn’t-” Harley stepped back. “I found him in a bathroom with some girl. I don’t think anything had happened yet,” he offered anxiously. 

The taller man kept his gaze on Harley. “Is that right, Pete?” 

Peter nodded miserably. 

“I think she drugged him,” Harley added. 

“What?” the white man stood up and whipped out his phone. 

“Dad,” Peter whined. 

The father shook his head. “I’m calling Helen. Say goodbye to your friend, say hello to Happy and a nine PM curfew.”

_ “Dad!”  _

“Tony.”

Tony stilled, putting his phone back in his pocket. “Peter, you scared me.”

“I know.”

“But I’m glad your safe, and that this boy found you before anything could really happen.” 

“Love you, Dad. Love you, Lieutenant Dad.” 

Both men chuckled. 

“Let’s get you upstairs. I’ll call Helen, we’ll get everything figured out.” Tony turned his attention to Harley. “Thanks for getting him home.”

Harley nodded. “Of course.” He rubbed his neck. “It was nice to meet you Peter.”

“Um.” Peter looked up blearily. He patted his pockets and pulled out a pen. “Text me,” he insisted as he scrawled his phone number onto Harley’s hand. 

Maybe making friends wasn’t so hard after all. 


End file.
